I'm finally over you. Yeah, I know. I'm so freaking proud of myself. It took me a whole year but I finally pulled through. No more crying myself to sleep or suddenly being overwhelmed by an unwanted bout of depression. Freedom tastes good. I haven't felt like this in a long time and I miss it. A LOT.
New sights. New sounds. New faces. And old ones. New feelings. New misgivings. New-found completeness but not quite.Yet.
And then there's you. No, not you. You. Yeah, YOU.
You made me smile again. You play along with all my stupid jokes. You tell me things. You're mortal. Real. A breathing, flesh-bound living thing. And that's bloody awesome, I appreciate it.
Of all the things we talked about over these past few months, I forgot to tell you some things.
I like you.
I want to get to know you better.
I want us to be more than friends.
But I'm scared. Freaking scared. No more silence. It'll kill me. A murder most brutal.
Make a move. Waiting is pure torture.
